Furtwängler rehearses with the Vienna Philharmonic on tour in London's Royal Festival Hall, 1948.by Ken
For all sorts of reasons, this week's sights are set low: We're not going to do much more than cover the same ground we did last week ("If we're aiming to focus on Hunding -- and we are -- then first we need to get him onstage"), the chunk of Act I of Die Walküre from the start of the pounding orchestral prelude through Hunding's reply to Siegmund, with a small tack-on, the stage business as Hunding sends his wife off off to prepare a meal for himself and their uninvited guest, including his startled observation of the physical resemblance between his wife and the stranger, and with two changes of "reference":
* attention-wise, as close consideration as possible of what I described last week as the characters' "persondom," which is to say the way the writing for them connects to our experience of being human, and --
* performance-wise, listening to a set of recordings I've hankered for some time to butt up against one another: the four recorded performances of this seminal act we have by that unique Wagner conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler.
Of course "persondom" is easier to detect in Die Walküre Act I than in much of the rest of The Ring. This doesn't mean it's any less important in the rest of The Ring, as I hope has been clear in the considerable assortment of excerpts we've heard over the years. I'm thinking that maybe if we pay due attention here, it'll be more apparent elsewhere.
(Next week, according to plan, as we finish up with Hunding we're slated to eavesdrop on the chilling and yet riveting Hagen in Götterdämmerung. And you know, it might be interesting at some point to dive into the SC audio archive and, from this perspective of "persondom," revisit the Ring excerpts we've heard. Think of, say, the giants Fasolt and Fafner in Rheingold fighting to get fair payment for their labors, and then fighting with each other, or the Nibelung Mime, arguably the least sympathetic character in The Ring, grappling with his humongous problem in the singularly tormented opening of Siegfried.)
WHAT, FOUR FURTWANGLER RECORDINGS?
Yes, four. Which is pretty remarkable considering that the time of Furtwängler's death, in December 1954, we had no such performances, though EMI's complete studio recording of Die Walküre, intended to be the start of a complete Ring recording, was already on tape, having been completed on October 6, and was in the process of being prepared for release. Once that happened, until 1972 we had officially a grand total of that one performance.
In 1972, following many years of haggling, and with much prodding from Elisabeth Furtwähgler, the conductor's widow, and ultimately cooperation from the Italian broadcast agency RAI, EMI released a complete Furtwängler Ring, recorded from a series of 10 concert performances, one act at a time, in the studios (and with the orchestra) of Rome Radio, . between Oct. 26 and Nov. 27, 1953. The performances had already begun circulating in the pirate underground, and their commercial release in quite listenable sound, for all their shortcomings, a momentous windfall.
Meanwhile, the tape and LP underground had begun circulating another complete Ring, from radio broadcasts of the cycle Furtwängler conducted at La Scala in 1950. (Well, not absolutely literally "complete," since the stage performances had observed some common opera-house cuts.) By this time, with the loosening of the strict bounds of international copyright on performances and recordings generally speaking older than 50 years (with international ifs, ands, and buts way too complex to go into here), and with access to higher-quality tape sources, the Scala cycle has become so readily available on CD that I'm considering it quasi-officially "released." (In addition, the original master tapes of the RAI cycle eventually turned up, making possible an upgrade of its sound.)
So, for Walküre that brings us to three Furtwängler recordings. What about this fourth one? Back on May 31, 1952, well after the Scala Ring and apparently as a dry run for the studio broadcast cycle planned for the following year, Furtwängler and the Rome Radio team broadcast a concert that paired two complete acts from The Ring which the conductor had in late career found congenial for concert performance: Act I of Die Walküre and Act III of Götterdämmerung. In 1994, Music & Arts issued that concert on CD, bringing the count up to three Furtwängler recordings of Götterdämmerung Act III and, yes, four of Walküre Act I.
ABOUT THE PERFORMANCES
We tend to think of Furtwängler carelessly as a "slow" conductor, and it's true that he wasn't inclined to rush through a piece, but even at his most gradual there is almost always the sense that he's taking the music as fast as it will go -- he just needs to allow the music time to do what it needs to do. One of my great regrets is that there's no record of that Parsifal he conducted at La Scala; how I would have loved to hear that!
However, for the Ring recordings we do have I'm immensely grateful, and I think all four performances of Walküre -- even allowing that this is music that's almost impossible to "mis-conduct" -- show what he could do. They're both patient and urgent, immensely powerful and capable of just as immense songfulness. And it's clear how much he loved working with singers. He didn't necessarily make life easy for them, but he created conditions for them to do singing of enormous purpose and character, and even, to the extent they had it in them, beauty. (I don't hear any of these qualities, I feel obligted to note, in the EMI Tristan recording, which has some of the superficial earmarks of a Furtwängler performance but not much of the inner animation that's the real hallmark of one.)
One thing that became strikingly apparent as the Scala Ring began circulating is how excitingly "situational" it can be, and this is evident here in the passion of the Siegmund-Sieglinde exchanges and the growling menace of Hunding's presence. Furtwängler was one of those performers who didn't like the recording process, and here I think we can hear how differently basically the same performance could come out in the context of a real theater. At the same time, in the studio, as in Vienna 1954, he could think more about serving the score over the long haul -- the Vienna Walküre tells us things about the opera that I don't think we'll hear in any other performance.
The Rome studio performances to some extent represent a "happy middle ground." They're real, live performances, after all each done in a single unedited "take." And yet, especially with conductor and singers having the luxury -- at least after Rheingold -- of focusing all their attention and energies on a single act, it became possible to think in longer-term perspectives. And it mattered that the orchestra was Italian, bringing to the music, puzzling as it must often have been to players who'd never played it, their in-bred feel for a singing line. For me one of the abiding pleasures of the Rome Ring is hearing the orchestra grow in understanding and confidence, so that by the time we get to Siegfried and even more Götterdämmerung it sounds like a top-line Wagner orchestra having a swell time.
NOTE: At some point I'm going to want to talk some about the singing, but for now I'm going to hold off and let everyone listen for themselves, partly so I can do some more listening and partly -- maybe mostly -- because given the technical mayhem I'm operating in at present, I want to at least get this much posted. (I'll be amazed if I can actually get a post up via the computer I'm forced to use at this moment.)
WAGNER: Die Walküre: Act I through Hunding, "Welch' schlimme Pfade schufen dir Pein?"
Inside a dwelling. In the middle stands a mighty ash tree, whose prominent roots spread wide and lose themselves in the ground. The summit of the tree is cut off by a jointed roof, so pierced that the trunk and the boughs branching out on every side pass through it, through openings made exactly to fit. We assume that the top of the tree spreads out above he roof. Around the trunk of the ash, as central point, a room has been constructed. The walls are of rudely hewn wood, here and there hung with plaited and woven rugs.
In the foreground, right, is a hearth, whose chimney goes up sideways to the roof; behind the hearth is an inner room, like a store room, reached by a few wooden steps. In front of it, half drawn, is a plaited hanging. In the background, an entrance door with a simple wooden latch. Left, the door to an inner chamber, similarly reached by steps. Further forward, on the same side, a table with a broad bench fastened to the wall behind it and wooden stools in front of it.
A short orchestral prelude of violent, stormy character introduces the scene. When the curtain rises, SIEGMUND, from without, hastily opens the main door and enters. It is towards evening; a fierce thunderstorm is just about to die down. For a moment, SIEGMUND keeps his hand on the latch and looks around the room; he seems to be exhausted by tremendous exertions; his raiment and general appearance proclaim him a fugitive. Seeing no one, he closes the door behind him, walks to the hearth, and throws himself down there, exhausted, on a bearskin rug.
SIEGMUND: Whoever may own this hearth,
I must rest here.
[He sinks back and remains for a while stretched out and motionless. SIEGLINDE enters from the door of the inner room, thinking that her husband has returned. Her grave look changes to one of surprise when she sees a stranger on the hearth.]
SIEGLINDE [still at the back]: A stranger!
I must question him.
[Quietly, she comes a few steps closer.]
Who came in the house
and is lying there by the hearth?
[As SIEGMUND does not move, she comes a little closer and looks at him.]
He lies there weary
and travel-worn --
is he unconscious?
Is he ill?
[She bends over him and listens.] He is still breathing;
he has fallen asleep.
He looks to me a brave man,
though he is now so exhausted.
SIEGMUND [suddenly raising his head]: Drink! Drink!
SIEGLINDE: I will bring you refreshment.
[She quickly takes a drinking horn and goes out of the house with it. Returning with it filled, she offers it to SIEGMUND.]
I proffer relief
for your parched mouth --
the water you called for.
[SIEGMUND drinks, and hands SIEGLINDE back the horn. As he signals his thanks with his head, his glance fastens on her features with growing interest.]
SIEGMUND: Cooling relief
the draught has given me;
the burden of my weariness
is lightened;
my courage revives;
my eyes enjoy
the pleasure of sight;
who is it that has so restored me?
SIEGLINDE: This house and this woman
are Hunding's own;
as a host he will grant you rest:
tarry until his return.
SIEGMUND: I am unarmed;
the wounded guest
your husband will not rebuff.
SIEGLINDE [with anxious haste]: Quick, show me your wounds!
SIEGMUND [shakes himself and sits up quickly]: They are slight,
not worth speaking of,
my limbs are still
in good trim.
Had shield and spear but held out
half as well as my arm,
I should never have fled from the foe
but spear and shield were shattered.
The enemy's horde
harried me to exhaustion,
the force of the storm
wore me out;
but quicker than I fled from the foe,
my tiredness has fled from me;
night closed on my eyelids;
the sun shines on me now anew.
SIEGLINDE [goes to the storeroom, fills a horn with mead, and offers it to SIEGMUND with friendly eagerness]:
You will not refuse
a sweet draught of honeyed mead?
SIEGMUND: Will you taste it first?
[After SIEGLINDE sips from the horn and gives it back to him. SIEGMUND takes a long draught, while his gazes rests on her with growing warmth. Still gazing, he takes the horn from his lips and lets it sink slowly, while the expression on his face tells of strong emotion. He sighs deeply and gloomily lets his eyes fall to the ground. With trembling voice:]
You have restored an unfortunate man --
May my wish
avert misfortune from you.
[Starting up and going towards the door]
I have halted and rested well;
now I must wend my way farther.
[He moves towards the back.]
SIEGLINDE: Who pursues you, that you flee so soon?
SIEGMUND [arrested by her cry, slowly and sadly]: Ill luck follows me
wherever I fly;
ill luck approaches
whereever I stay;
may it stay far from you!
I will turn both step and glance away!
[He strides swiftly to the door and lifts the latch.]
SIEGLINDE [calling to him with impetuous forgetfulness]:
Then stay here!
You cannot bring misfortune
where misfortune dwells already!
[SIEGMUND, deeply moved, remains where he is; he gazes intently at SIEGLINDE, who lowers her eyes in embarrassment and sadness. A long silence. SIEGMUND returns into the room.]
SIEGMUND: Wehwalt ["Woeful"] I named myself:
I will await Hunding.
[He leans against the hearth; his eyes fix themselves with calm and steady sympathy on SIEGLINDE. Slowly, she raises her eyes again to his. They gaze into one another's eyes during a long silence, with an expression of the deepest emotion./i>
[Suddenly SIEGLINDE starts, listens and hears HUNDING, who is leading his horse to the stable outside. She goes quickly to the door and opens it. HUNDING, armed with shield and spear enters and pauses at the threshold on perceiving SIEGMUND. He turns to SIEGLINDE with a look of stern inquiry.]
SIEGLINDE [in answer to his look]:
Worn out, by the fire,
I found this man;
need brought him into the house.
HUNDING: You cared for him?
SIEGLINDE: I gave him to drink;
I tended to him as a guest.
SIEGMUND [watching HUNDING calmly and firmly]:
For the shelter and the drink
I thank her:
would you rebuke your wife for that?
HUNDING: Sacred is my hearth:
may my house be sacred to you!
[He hands his armor to SIEGLINDE, and says to her:]
Prepare a meal for us men!
[SIEGLINDE , hangs the armor on the branches of the ash tree, fetches food and drink from the store room, and prepares the table for supper. Involuntarily she turns her eyes again to SIEGMUND. HUNDING looks keenly and with astonishment at SIEGMUND's features, comparing them with his wife's. Aside:]
How like the woman he is!
The same serpent's glance
glitters in his eye.
[He hides his surprise, and turns, as if unconcerned, to SIEGMUND.]
From far away, I expect,
you've come in your travels.
He didn't ride a horse,
the man who found rest here:
what rough tracks
caused your weariness?
-- stage directions translated by Andrew Porter, sung text by
G. M. Holland/P. Cochrane and by Wm. Mann, with touch-ups
Günther Treptow (t), Siegmund; Hilde Konetzni (s), Sieglinde; Ludwig Weber (bs), Hunding; Orchestra of the Teatro alla Scala, Wilhelm Furtwängler, cond. Live performance, Mar. 9, 1950
Günther Treptow (t), Siegmund; Hilde Konetzni (s), Sieglinde; Otto von Rohr (bs), Hunding; RAI Rome Symphony Orchestra, Wilhelm Furtwängler, cond. From a concert performance of Act I, recorded live May 31, 1952
Wolfgang Windgassen (t), Siegmund; Hilde Konetzni (s), Sieglinde; Gottlob Frick (bs), Hunding; RAI Rome Symphony Orchestra, Wilhelm Furtwängler, cond. From the concert performance of Act I, recorded live Oct. 29, 1953, in the one-act-at-a-time broadcast Ring cycle, released by EMI in 1972
Ludwig Suthaus (t), Siegmund; Leonie Rysanek (s), Sieglinde; Gottlob Frick (bs), Hunding; Vienna Philharmonic, Wilhelm Furtwängler, cond. EMI, recorded in Vienna's Musikvereinssaal, Sept. 28-Oct. 6, 1954
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